


Mated Misadventured

by JeromeSankara, lynna21



Series: Leedus ABO [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF, The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead RPF
Genre: Alpha Andrew Lincoln, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bottom Norman Reedus, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Nesting, Past Relationship(s), Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-10 20:19:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18415130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeromeSankara/pseuds/JeromeSankara, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynna21/pseuds/lynna21
Summary: Filming for Season 2 of the Walking Dead begins, with newly mated pair Andrew and Norman to take the lead. Can they juggle their work with their personal lives? Or will their past traumas become another roadblock?A direct sequel to Knoughts and Crosses





	1. Returning Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is for sequel to Knoughts and Crosses! This is unedited, will have mistakes, but was just too much fun to let just sit around. Whenever we are too busy to edit through a fic or post a new chapter, we will update with this in the meantime! Please enjoy the adventures of Norm and Andy <3

“Norman, did you want the left or the right side of the closet?”

No answer. That was odd. Not more than ten minutes ago, Andrew couldn't get Norman to shut up about his excitement to be back within the house after being away for half a year. Then again, there were numerous things that Andrew couldn't get Norman to hush over.

One of them being the feline rubbing against his calf right at that moment.

Andrew looked down at the cat with weary eyes, watching him pace back and forth, bright sometimes green, sometimes yellow eyes staring up at him. He let out a high pitched meow. At least someone still had some sort of energy. But also, the cat hadn't been the one to switch driving every few hours in a near nonstop trip from New York to Georgia.

And the only reason they did that was because a certain  _ cat  _ was too nervous to fly.

There were other things Norman would chatter about in an attempt to stay awake. Mostly about being back with the cast. Norman stayed in close contact with a few of the cast, talking to them on his phone. Then there were his plans for changing around the nest.

“Why don't you go see what your Mum is doing?” Andrew huffed to himself, gently prodding the cat in the side with his foot. “He's  _ supposed  _ to be helping me.” The cat just stared up at him, ears flicked back with an annoyed look over his face.

“Or not.” Sighing to himself, Andrew set down the clothing he had in his arms, just waiting to be hung up. While it was charming to see Norman changing things in the house to suit his needs, he would rather not have the entire house flipped upside down overnight.

Stepping back into the hallway, he listened for any sign of his mate. He peeked into the nest, but nothing had changed. It didn't smell like Norman had set foot into it, either. Maybe he fell asleep on the couch. He made his way to the living room, trying to keep his movements quiet just in case that was exactly what he stumbled into, then turned the corner. 

Well, he was partially right. Norman was on the couch. But there was also a cardboard box sitting at his feet, one Andrew didn't recognize. Even across the room, though, the alpha got a good look to what was inside. 

Chocolates. Boxes upon boxes of chocolates. And Norman was stuffing square after square into his mouth.

Pressing a hand against the bridge of his nose, Andrew sighed. “You’re meant to be unpacking, not eating boxes of chocolate you somehow managed to hide from me.”

Norman glanced up, blue eyes blinking. There was an absurd amount of innocence in his gaze. “But I am unpacking,” he said, motioning down to the box.

“Unpacking chocolate into your stomach. While I unpack everything else?” Andrew plopped down onto the couch beside Norman, and lay his head on the other man’s lap. “Share,” he requested, opening his mouth.

Norman rolled his eyes, but set the box of chocolate onto the cushions. He picked out a random square and held it to Andrew's lips, which the alpha quickly bit into and took into his mouth. “There, now you're helping  _ me  _ unpack.”

Andrew snorted, and slowly sucked on the piece of candy. “I still need to unpack the kitchen, and go to the grocery store,” he said, smacking his lips, “Or you’ll never eat anything but shite.”

“I'll just ask your mom to send me more chocolate.” As if that had solved the problem, he picked out a square for himself and bit into it, letting out a hum of approval at the taste. 

“I’m not sure I like the idea of you turning my mother into your dealer.” Andrew rolled onto his side, and lightly scratched at Norman’s leg with his sharp nails. “It’s not cheap posting things from London, you know.”

Norman rested a hand onto Andrew's head, letting his fingers run through his curls. “I'll give her my paycheck for the premiere this season. Should help cover it,” he promised through the chocolate in his mouth. He swallowed it, then let out a sigh. “It’s London's fault that it tastes so good.”

Chuckling, Andrew ran his fingers down the back of Norman’s knee. “You’ll get so used to British chocolate you’ll start to hate American. I’d watch out if I were you.”

“Nah. Hershey's still got a place in my heart.” The fingers slowed as Norman adjusted himself on the couch, laying back with a sigh. His head rested into the cushions and he closed his eyes. “...I don't wanna work Monday. S’gonna be hot.”

“It’s almost June, of course it’s hot.” Andrew continued stroking his fingers up and down Norman’s leg, and closed his eyes. “We should get a pool.”

“I would blow you so hard if we did that.”

Andrew cracked open one eye, and looked up at Norman. “You’ll blow me so hard even if I don’t.”

“Fucking sue me. I like your dick.” Norman didn't even open his eyes, but he was grinning. Even in his exhaustion, he still found the energy to be… Norman.

“Mmmmm,” Andrew hummed. “I like yours, too.” He opened his mouth to say more, but quickly changed his mind, snapping it shut with a click.

“I was about to get pissed if you didn't say it back,” Norman chuckled, and began to move his fingers again. He let them wander, if not blindly, over Andrew’s cheek and through the scruff Andrew had just started to grow. The omega of course was a sucker for it, even though he more than likely would be shaved soon enough.

“You like the beard, don’t you? Are you going to grow yours out?”

“I fucking hate you sometimes.”

Every time Norman had ever tried to grow a beard, it ended with patchiness that was almost too thin to take pride in. The little he did have was as thick as it was going to get. Omegas certainly were not designed to grow facial hair, but then again, he wasn't like most Omegas.

Andrew rolled over, and pressed his face into Norman’s groin, exhaling a long breath. Raising his head, he turned his eyes up to the narrowed blue ones staring back at him. “You know I love your cute little beard,” he smirked.

A flush ran across Norman's face, and he looked away. Instead, his eyes wandered around the vaguely empty house. Even after the months of living here, it still wasn't quite home. Wasn't really theirs. If they really wanted to, they could attempt to buy the property, but he didn't doubt that the price would skyrocket.

“...Do you still think ‘bout building our own place down here?” he asked quietly, still letting his eyes roam.

“Constantly.” Rolling around again, until he was face up, Andrew looked at Norman. “The show is doing pretty well. I think we’ve got at least two more seasons down here. Unless we totally tank it. Which could happen.”

He rubbed his hands across his face, and thought for a moment. “I’ve got enough saved that if you wanted to build something that was just our own, I could swing it. After I did a movie a few years back, I went and talked to a financial planner, and I’m pretty decently set up now.”

Norman snorted. “Well, the fans still kinda hate me. But I got a little boost in salary. Now that I'm not a guest star or whatever.” His gaze turned back to Andrew, but he was lightly frowning. “I'm still pissed they cut yours down a shit-ton.”

Andrew shrugged. “It happens. They brought in more cast members, and their salaries had to come from somewhere, right?” He glanced around, and grinned at Norman. “I’d still do the show for a hell of a lot less than what they’re paying me.”

“Until you gotta pay for living down here ‘cause they add on like three more months of filming.” Norman's voice lowered slightly,lips tight. “But I dunno. Haven't done anything like this, so it's still new to me how stuff works.”

“I’ve been quite lucky in my life, Norm. I could probably live comfortably on what I’ve made so far for the rest of my life.” Tilting his head a bit, Andrew laughed. “In fact, if what my financial advisor tells me is true, I could support a family at the same time.”

Another blush, but Norman's face softened, even as he was too embarrassed to look down at Andrew. He resumed stroking through his hair, sweeping his bangs back and out of his eyes. He lightly shrugged. “I don't got an advisor, but I'm pretty sure I'll be able to help with that, either way.”

“You can talk to mine if you like. He’s based in London, but he has a lot of American clients, as well.” Scratching at his stomach, Andrew yawned, and closed his eyes again. “I’ve got his information in my office.”

“Maybe another day. Don't really wanna worry too much for all that future stuff right now.” Norman leaned down carefully and pressed his lips to Andrew's, even if it took a bit of awkward stretching. “I like what I got right now.”

Andrew’s eyes fluttered open at Norman’s kiss, and he threaded his hand through Norman’s lengthening hair. “I’ll never be that type of guy, in case you were wondering. Telling you what you need to do with your money and all things of that nature.”

“Unless it's me losing it all to my son,” Norman chuckled, though keeping a lips distance apart. His fingers ran through his curls, stroking them slowly. “I got some  Boondock  money saved away for a rainy day.”

“Speaking of your son,” Andrew groaned. “I’ve got to deposit another 300 dollars into that bank account I opened for him. We made a bet, and I lost spectacularly.”

“Andrew!” Norman groaned loudly, throwing back his head until it connected to the cushion. “I told you to stop making bets with him! He's ran out of shit to spend his money on!”

“I was on a roll, and I got cocky.” Sitting up, Andrew stood up from the couch and stretched. “I’d better go do it before I forget.”

Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss to Norman’s lips, and muttered, “You and your damn chocolate addiction are costing me so much money.”

“Hey, I'll have you know that I bought these  _ myself _ ,” Norman grumbled in response, even as he caught Andrew’s lips into another kiss. He held it for a few seconds, then eventually drew back. His eyes met Andrew's, still soft and warm. “Am I somehow still worth it?”

Andrew smiled as he stood up, his eyes soft. “Worth every penny, Buttercup.”

* * *

Norman liked surprises. Andrew did not. Andrew also did not like it when Norman refused to read the script because he said he wanted to be surprised. Had it been for any other episode, Andrew would have shrugged it off and let Norman find out for himself.

That script sat in Norman's lap, still unopened. The omega was staring out the window as Andrew drove, unhappy about the heat but excited to see the cast. Andrew, however, couldn't chase away the rock in the pit of his stomach.

“We’re going to the woods?” Norman chirped as he looked back over to Andrew, eyes bright. “Awesome. Maybe we get some sweet zombie kills.”

“I'm sure there are,” Andrew said, his voice carefully neutral. His eyes stayed on the road, slowing down to pass through security. They were early compared to other cast members, mostly because of Andrew's own wishes. He liked being one of the first to come and one of the last to leave. In his mind, if he was to be the leader of the survivors, then he needed to be the same to his coworkers. Be there for them no matter what time or circumstance.

It was why Andrew had been hoping that Norman would have just opened up the damn script.

“I really wish you’d let me talk to you about the script,” Andrew said, looking at Norman out of the corner of his eye. “Some things happen that I think you might need to prepare yourself for.”

Andrew sighed when Norman glared at him. “Norman… I’m serious. I’d really rather you weren’t blindsided.”

“You know how this shit works, right?” Norman said, his voice tight. “I don't like looking ahead. It's cheating. I only wanna know what Daryl’s gonna know. Or see. And as long as we ain't dying, I can handle it.”

Trying once again to get Norman to see reason, Andrew said, “Someone  _ is _ dying. Probably, at least. I need you to be prepared.”

Norman opened his mouth, eyes still narrowed, only to hesitate. He swallowed, but then he shook his head. “...It's how this show goes, man. We lost, like, half the group in one damn episode.”

“It’s Sophia, Norm.” 

Andrew parked the car, and shifted in his seat, staring blankly at the steering wheel. “Sophia is the one we’re going to lose.”

Norman's grip audibly tightened on the arm rest, scratching against the plastic. His body turned stiff, eyes staring out the front windshield, and he became nothing more than a statue for what felt like minutes. Then he pulled in a breath.

“...She ain't my Sophia,” Norman grunted, looking out the passenger window. “Barely see her. Wouldn't look like her. She ain't my pup.”

“No,” Andrew said softly, “she’s not.” He reached out and gripped Norman’s chin, turning him so their eyes would meet. “But all the focus today is going to be centered on  _ her. _ I thought you deserved a little bit of advance notice.”

“I don't-... It's not the same. Not like I gotta care about every  _ Sophia  _ out there.” Norman's voice was bitter, eyes narrowed back at Andrew if only to hide the deep pain even just in saying her name. “Just because they got the same name doesn't mean they're the same!”

“Tell me that every time someone says that name, your mind doesn’t go back to that day, and I’ll drop it,” Andrew said, his gaze determinedly holding onto Norman’s.

“You're going to fucking _drop it_ _anyway_! I don’t wanna-"

“Norman!” Andrew yelled, his voice echoing around the car. Norman flinched in his seat, his eyes flashing but he turned silent. “Honesty even if it hurts, remember? Now, tell me the truth.”

Norman scowled, to the point that he showed teeth. His eyes flickered, gold threading around the edges, yet his body was contracting upon itself. Hiding. Pressing against the door as if he could somehow escape this conversation. His breath was sucked in from between his teeth, before he finally spoke.

“You have no fucking  _ idea. Every _ single fucking script,  _ every  _ take,  _ every  _ time _.”  _ Norman's hand fisted before it slammed down against the armrest, with enough force that it could have cracked it. “Like a little fucking movie in my head.” His breathing caught in his throat, and he swallowed. 

“You have no idea what they did to me. What they made me go through. What we had to do after. Because that's what I fucking think about, every single time.”

Andrew nodded, and he wasn’t surprised in the least. “I thought so,” he said softly, reaching up to thread his fingers through Norman’s hair, and tug lightly. “But you don’t have to go through any of that alone anymore. I’m strong enough, Norman. I can help you carry it, if you’d only let me.”

Norman flinched, then managed to break the gaze. He turned his head away just from the reach of his fingertips, staring instead out the front window. His eyes were glistening now, glassy and unclear. “You don't understand. I don't want you to deal with it. ‘Cause it broke me. And then that's all you're gonna see if I told you ‘bout that day.”

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” Andrew shook his head, and lay his hand on the nape of Norman’s neck, his fingers moving is small circles. “You’re so much more than that one tragic incident, Norman. And you’re not broken. You’re a survivor. Sort of like Daryl. You’ve both gone through some really difficult things, but you  _ beat _ them. You  _ won. _ ”

Andrew pulled his hand away from Norman’s neck and placed it over his heart. “You didn’t come away from it without scars, but you’re still here.”

Norman's breathing rasped in his throat for a moment, his shoulders stiffening up as his head fell. Staring down at his shoes, yet not focused. It was running through his head again. And it probably always will. “Please, I don't wanna talk about this,” he groaned out softly, shaking his head as if to chase away the thoughts. “It was bad then and it’s still bad after four fucking years.”

“I’m not going to make you talk about it,” Andrew soothed, sliding his hand up to Norman’s neck again. “I just wanted to tell you what was coming, and make sure you know that I’ll be right beside you. For a hug or a kiss, or to hand you a big chunk of a dairy milk bar.” He squeezed Norman gently. “Alright?”

Another shuddering breath, and then a small nod. His eyes squeezed closed in an attempt to regain his focus, then gave his body a quick shake. He let out the breath in a sharp exhale. “Okay. Drive. Please.” Each word was softer than the last, and he pressed a hand against his face, taking in slow, deep breaths.

“We’re here,” Andrew said, his voice soft. Getting the feeling that Norman wanted nothing better than to curl up in the nest back at home, he sighed. Glancing down at his watch, he nodded to himself. “You don’t need to be in makeup for another half hour, so until then we can do whatever you need to do. We can talk, or not talk. I can hold your hand, or hold you, or I can give you some space. You just have to tell me what you need.”

“I-I want your, uh,” Norman began, only to look towards Andrew. His shoulders sagged immediately, light dimming in his eyes, and he turned away again. “Um… D-do you have an old jacket in the back?” he asked, even when he should have known that the vehicle was a rental.

A furrow appeared between Andrew’s brows. “No, I don’t. Are you cold? I can get something from wardrobe for you. Or, I don’t know. A blanket?”

Norman audibly swallowed. “D-do you think they have your old, uh, um, t-the… hospital gown,” he stammered, desperation peaking at the edges just as that gold began to grow within his eyes, which he tried to hide by tucking his head closer to his chest.

Still confused, Andrew cocked his head to the side. “Even if they do have it still, which I doubt, it won’t do you much good as a blanket. Too thin, isn’t it?” 

“I'm not cold!” Norman almost shouted, curling deeper into his seat. “I-I want your clothes, I didn't bring any, I don't have anything here, your trailer won't have anything, wardrobe doesn't have anything, and if they did, it's gonna be stale and I need something fresh-”

Andrew immediately leaned away from Norman, and his hands went to the hem of the tshirt he was wearing. Pulling it swiftly over his head, he held it out to Norman. “Here. I’ve been wearing it since I cooked us breakfast. Is that long enough?”

Like a cobra, Norman had already snapped out and grabbed a hold of the fabric, pulling it out of Andrew's grasp in a matter of milliseconds. His hands dug into the fabric, furiously kneading it to work out every ounce of scent just as he pressed it to his face to take in deep gasping breaths of his scent. Had it not been for him squeezing his eyes shut, Andrew would have seen the gold completely engulf them.

It had been a long time since Norman had an episode that he needed his nest, or any variance of it, the last time being a few months ago when Mingus got hurt during P.E. class. When a situation would cause him to panic, the Omega instinct would beg him to hide or find safety of a packmate. When there were neither of those, though, it could escalate. 

“All you had to do was ask, Norm,” Andrew said, rubbing lightly at the swirls of hair on his chest. It might be a bit awkward walking onto set without a shirt on, but if it made his omega happy, he was glad to do it. “What else can I do?”

Norman took in a deeper breath before he bothered speaking, letting it out in a long drag. “Um… Talk to me. Just… ‘Bout anything,” he murmured, his voice still muffled by the shirt. He still was curled in on himself, an attempt to make himself as small as possible and disappear from the car entirely.

“Uhhh.” Andrew cast his eyes around the car, looking for anything that would possibly trigger some sort of conversation topic. When his gaze landed on the small catnip mouse sitting on the back seat, he smiled. “I think your cat has a crush on me. He followed me around the entire weekend, meowing at my heels.”

Norman snorted softly, and he gave a wheezy laugh. “He's so smart.” That statement could always be argued, though. There were plenty of times that Eye would jump at a shadow moving, or in the case of two weeks ago, stare at a mouse eating out of his bowl. It was only when it crawled under the fridge that he decided to pounce.

“I’m serious! Last night I woke up to him laying on my face!”

Another laugh, this time louder. Norman pulled his face from the shirt, even as his fingers still fidgeted within the fabric. “That means he likes you. Or that you snore. I know I've had a bad night if he's trying to suffocate me so he can sleep.”

Andrew’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t snore. Do I?”

“I got no fucking idea. I'm a heavy sleeper when I finally fall asleep. Could run a chainsaw by my head and I wouldn't even flinch.” Norman shrugged lightly, now gently nuzzling the shirt instead. “So he probably just likes you. Which is good ‘cause if he didn't, you'd be on the couch.”

“You’d pick your cat over me?” Andrew blinked rapidly, and wiped away an imaginary tear. “I think I’m offended. And hurt. Hurt and offended.”

Norman rolled his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. “Such a baby. I guess if he didn't like you, you'd have to share custody of me with him.”

Shaking his head, Andrew smirked. “I don’t share well. Skipped that day in kindergarten.”

“Asshole.” Norman huffed to himself, closing his eyes as he adjusted himself to curl up more comfortably. He remained quiet, his brows furrowed as if he was deciding something.

After an awkward minute of silence, Norman let out a long, tired sigh. “...Okay, I'm gonna need you to tell me about what's gonna go on today. What I gotta do. Mkay? Just look over the script for me.”

Andrew took a deep breath, and began to walk Norman through the scenes they were filming today. He carefully omitted Sophia’s name from the conversation, but he still saw the flinches Norman couldn’t quite hide.

When reached the part about Daryl tracking Sophia, but not being able to find her, Norman growled lowly.

“That’s bullshit,” he scowled, his fingers restlessly working at Andrew’s shirt. “Daryl will fuckin’ find that little girl. He has to.”

Norman continued murmuring under his breath. “He’ll find her. Prove himself to the group. He deserves to be there. Not just a fuckin’ loser redneck.”

Andrew smiled and leaned over to kiss Norman’s temple. “I’m pretty sure Daryl will be steadily improving his stock with the group this season.” Smirking he said, “Maybe you’ll get some fangirls of your own.”

“Shut up,” Norman glared, his eyes narrowed. “Don’t we got shit to do? Let’s go.” He opened the car door and got out, stretching. “Well? C’mon Andy, you’re gonna make us late and shit.”

Shaking his head fondly, Andrew stepped out of the car, and followed Norman onto set. 


	2. Rewards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tough scene lied ahead of Norman and Andrew. If they can get through it, Andrew promises a reward to his mate. That reward spirals out of control very fast, but neither will complain.

Andrew tried not to make it look obvious, the way he would try to keep his eye on Norman from the peripherals. Whenever he caught a glimpse of him, Norman wouldn't be looking his direction. Instead he just stared at the script, flicking through the pages, then back, then through again. Other times he would be pacing just outside the circle of crew, a cigarette in between his lips.

There was a part of the script that they did not talk about. Probably the worst they could put Norman through, if he was honest with himself. It would bring terrible memories, ones too intimate for Norman to even think of confessing to Andrew. Not like he couldn't guess.

Cutting open a walkers stomach to see if there were any remains of Sophia. It was far too close.

But the scenes still had to continue. Andrew couldn't figure out what would be worse: making Norman act out the scene, or telling the producers that they couldn't do this to him. There was no doubt that they would want to know the reason why.

And if Norman had held all this inside for seven years… He wouldn't dare let anyone else know. Norman didn't want pity.

At least it was entertaining, doing a scene with the pups. Chandler had clung to Norman not more than a few days after he came to set. At first Andrew thought it was simply because Norman was an Omega. Pups were drawn to them. But seeing the two interact, messing around, making trouble… Norman practically adopted him.

Madison was almost the opposite. She stayed by the side of her parents, with the exception of Melissa coaxing her out every now and then. It took time for Andrew to build her trust as well. If he was going to be the pack leader, then he needed to make sure the little ones were comfortable around him.

But it brought up that ache in his chest, something that he had not felt until he had met Norman. The ache to make a pack all their own. He had a small taste of that joy for a month… Then it was taken away.

It hurt, but Andrew couldn't begin to understand Norman's own longing. Mingus was getting older. He had grown a good three inches over the winter alone. There was already a change in dynamic between Mingus and Norman.

Mingus didn't want to be marked anymore. He was becoming more independent. Norman would ask if Mingus wanted to join them to some random place, but he would say no. Distancing himself. They were signs that he was nearing puberty, something that Norman worried endlessly for.

Helena had already given her preference aloud, saying that she hoped Mingus would be an Alpha. But what if he wasn't? Would Mingus think he was disappointing them if he turned out to be a simple Beta? What about an Omega?

That was what Norman feared. The world wasn't always kind to Omegas, Andrew could see that now.

Andrew shook his head to clear his thoughts. Madison was done for the day, and they had just finished filming her actual disappearance. Next would be him and Daryl tracking. He wondered if it was the fact that guidelines were so strict for child actors that they were writing them out?

Then there was Chandler. What they would do to Carl. 

Andrew shuddered. They couldn't possibly kill him. Looking a script or two ahead, he could see that they were using the hunting accident as a trigger between the group. That and Sophia. He heard some talk earlier that there would be an episode focused only on searching for her. And that job would likely be handed to Daryl.

Glancing up from where he sat on his chair, he watched the lighting being adjusted for the final time. They were working as fast as possible to use as much sunlight as possible. Budget was cut, almost in half, and it was already starting to show.

And here he thought the higher ups would  _ reward  _ them for their hard work.

The Alpha looked back to Norman, and he frowned as he watch him restlessly pawing Andrew’s shirt between his fingers, tugging on it to the point that he was sure it would be stretched out beyond repair. His eyes were distant, foggy. The cast and crew were giving him a wide berth, as they could tell something was bothering him.

This was far from the best first impression they could make for the new season. The first had ended on a sour note, with missing the last week of filming and barely making it to the wrap party. Then there were the barrage of questions thrown at them the moment they did show up. Had it not been for Jon helping thin the crowd and chasing away the questions, there was little doubt either Norman, Andrew, or both were going to end up taking it out on something or someone.

Before they started the next shot, Andrew made it a point to grab Norman and lead him a little bit away from everyone else, and drag him behind a tree. The Omega was tense and almost unwilling to move, and he couldn't meet Andrew's eyes. Instead, he kept looking back to the prop walker they were positioning on the ground.

“Don’t pay attention to them. Pay attention to me,” Andrew rumbled, sliding his arms around Norman’s waist, and only flinching a little bit when his left hand knocked into the massive knife Norman had strapped to his body.

“Can't just fucking ignore ‘em. Gotta do the scene. Only got the one body. Can't fuck it up,” Norman muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Andrew. He remained stiff, almost ignoring the Alpha’s presence entirely.

“You’ll do fine. I’m a bit worried about myself.” Andrew made a disgusted face. “The thought of digging around in that thing… Even though it’s fake.” He shuddered, and asked, “You don’t mind if I throw up on you at all, right?”

“Hey, here's the deal,  _ Grimes _ ,” Norman grunted, finally turning his head towards Andrew. He was scowling, but his voice had turned ragged. Daryl. He reached to his belt and slid out the knife, immediately pointing the tip to Andrew’s chin.

“You puke, I puke. I can handle a lot of shit. I can't deal with puke. Got me?”

Andrew smiled wickedly. “If I don’t puke, can I get a  _ massage _ later?”

“And what if I fucking want one? I'm the one putting my hands in the damn thing! You just poke the gut bag a little bit,” Norman argued, but there was warmth in his eyes even if his body language said otherwise.

“Hmmm,” Andrew hummed, leaning in and running his nose along the column of Norman’s neck, sneaking in a small lick over the tattooed ‘x’ on the thin skin. “If you do well, maybe we can both get a happy ending tonight. Is that fair?”

At first, Norman just muttered under his breath as Andrew pressed against his neck, only to let out a loud growl at the lick. Of course, not the defensive ‘I'm going to kick your ass if you keep touching me,’ but rather the ‘I'm gonna kick your ass if you stop.’ His other hand not holding the knife reached up, his fingers tangling into Andrew's sweat-damp hair. “Do we gotta wait?”

“As much as I wish we didn’t, yes. We’re going to be losing the light soon, as well.” Andrew looked at Norman with slightly narrowed eyes. “Maybe you and I can have a little romp in the woods after the crew is gone, however.”

Andrew’s hand worked it’s way down Norman’s back, and insinuated itself between the waistband of his slacks, and his skin. “Play a little game of Cops and Rednecks.”

The growl Norman let out was strangely Alpha-like, and his fingers clenched into his hair. “Don't fucking tease me,” he rumbled, gold-rimmed eyes looking down at Andrew.

“I would never,” Andrew professed, his own slightly red eyes locking with gold. He leaned in and whispered into Norman’s ear, “I’ll make you scream so loud, everyone will think the zombie apocalypse is real.”

Norman swallowed harshly, the gold going stronger just as he pressed back against Andrew's hand. “You got ten seconds to get off me before I drag you down, I ain't gonna give a shit about losing light.”

Andrew’s only response was a nip to Norman’s ear, and a wide grin. He slowly dragged his hand out of Norman’s slacks, and backed a few steps away. Looking Norman up and down, he dragged a hand down his own chest and cupped his groin, making it clear just how much he wanted to blow off shooting, and drag his Omega into the forest.

How Norman became the responsible one out of the two was beyond his thoughts, but all he knew was that he hated it. Scowling back at Andrew and flashing teeth, he had to yank his gaze back to Andrew's face and away from the clear arousal Andrew displayed. His own was needing more than a little attention, but he hooked his nails into the tree trunk behind him.

“You're gonna fucking kill me.”

His grin widening even more, Andrew replied, “But what a way to go.”

“Lincoln! Reedus!”

Their names blasted through the megaphone that the director wielded around as a weapon, forcing Norman's head to snap up and look behind them. His eyes were wide and the gold retracted to a ring.

“We got less than an hour, let's go!” the call continued. 

Mentally willing his erection to go down was pointless. Any Norman-induced arousal never went away on it’s own. Pawing through the body of a dead walker would do the trick soon enough, so Andrew straightened his shoulders and walked out from behind the tree. Looking back at Norman, he shot the man a small smile, a wink, and mouthed, “Later.”

“You piece of shit…” Norman didn't bother mouthing those words, still partially hiding behind the tree as he tried to adjust himself within the baggy pants. He was extremely lucky there was no scent of slick, though if he was honest with himself, that still was a distinct possibility as Andrew walked away.

Finally he pushed himself to his feet properly, rubbing a hand against his eyes to try to clear away the gold as he followed Andrew a few feet behind.

The crew opened up immediately, and Norman only just kept himself from shuffling to a stop. The scene was set. He just needed to do it and do it fast.

Walking over to the prone body on the ground, Andrew’s upper lip curled away from his teeth. One thing you could not deny about the zombies on this show. They sure were lifelike.

Taking a few last minute directions, he and Norman were put into their spots. Sharing one last glance with Norman, he firmed his jaw and nodded. “You’ve got this, Buttercup,” he whispered, aware of the several crew members within hearing distance. “You’ll do fine.”

The corner of Norman's lip twitched to something that threatened to be a smile, but it withered away as soon as the director called for action.

Immediately, Norman forced his gaze to the bolt still protruding from the walker, and he had to remind himself that the body before him was a dead threat. Disgusting. Wearing a scowl, he stepped to the body and grabbed onto the shaft of the bolt, then ripped it out. Chances are they would make it sound cooler in post.

Raising his head, he forced himself to raise his voice. “Sophia!” he shouted, trying to ignore the croak in his voice or the venom it laid on his tongue.

Andrew knelt down by the body, and quickly put on on a pair of gloves. He did not want any of the…  _ fluids,  _ touching his skin.

Norman's gaze flicked down to Andrew, just as the Alpha reached over to the body. Gross. Why would he want to touch it. But he had a suspicion of what ‘Rick’ was searching for. “...What are you lookin' for, “ he muttered, his voice low.

Picking up one of the hands, he looked closely at it. “Skin under the fingernails,” he said, looking back at ‘Daryl’. Pulling back, he grabbed it by the shoulders, and rolled it over. “It fed recently.” Unable to help his grimace, he pried open the walker’s mouth, and pulled out a bit of flesh. “There’s flesh caught in its teeth.” Holding it up so they could both look at it, Andrew swallowed down a wave of revulsion.

Norman was already struggling with his own sick, but it wasn't from watching Andrew play around in the mouth. He couldn't see it before when it was on its stomach but it was swollen. Swelled up like a balloon in the belly. Something inside of it.

Andrew's words of the flesh in the teeth managed to snap him back before the director had a chance to notice. He hoped that the look of whatever he let slip out was appropriate for Daryl. He wasn't in the mood to care. Leaning down, he squinted at the flesh. Honestly, it just looked like black sludge everywhere. Bits of red for the regular blood.

“...Yeah, what kind of flesh?” he asked, his body beginning to stiffen in preparation for what came next.

His mind spinning with what needed to happen next, Andrew reached for the knife on his belt, and sighed. “Only one way to know for sure.” He ripped open the shirt and bared the walker’s distended stomach, then flipped open the blade of his knife. He readied the blade, hovering over the discolored skin.

Nothing happened.

“...Daryl, he has no clue what he's doing, don’t let him ruin it!” the director called out, refraining from using his megaphone. But there was still nothing. Feeling his heart sink, Andrew looked up from the corner of his eyes.

Norman was frozen where he stood, hands trembling, eyes focused onto the knife about to sink into the bloated flesh.

“...Cut!” the director called out with a groan, this time using the megaphone. “Earth to Norman!”

Barely holding himself back from dragging Norman back into the trees and away from this scene, Andrew took a deep breath. “You can do this, Buttercup, come on,” he whispered, lips barely moving. “A few cuts, and this will all be over, and we can go get ourselves those happy endings.”

Finally, Norman seemed to snap back into his own body, taking in a gasping breath and letting it out in a cough. He pressed his hand against his mouth, and he couldn't decide if it was just to cover up the coughs or because he was moments away from having his stomach turn inside out.

“Andrew, close the shirt, we gotta have the overshot right,” the director called. “Norman, Rick’s about two seconds away from fucking up what you've done since you were ten. No hesitation.”

His eyes watering from his coughs, Norman just nodded. His eyes focused down in Andrew as much as he could, if just to not look down at the body. “Y-Yeah. Yeah. I'm good.”

“Show everyone what a badass Daryl Dixon is. Get yourself some fangirls,” Andrew winked.

A low rumble of chuckles came from the crew, and it managed to crack a smile on Norman's face. He nodded again, then sucked in a deep breath to steady his nerves.

“Alright, start again with tearing open the shirt. We'll splice it up in post,” the director called. Only once Andrew had closed up the shirt, planning to just yank it open to make it seem like it hadn't been opened already, did the director call for action again.

Flicking his knife closed again, Andrew leaned back over and ‘tore’ open the shirt, giving a grunt for realism. His chest tightening, he slowly flipped the blade out and lowered it to the body.

He hoped his relief was not caught by the camera as he felt Norman grab onto his arm.

“Here, I'll do it,” Norman grunted, his voice flat. Just like gutting a deer. Done it a million times. Nothing different. Norman repeated the phrases as he swung his leg over the walker, standing above it.

As he reached for his blade, he scoffed, “How many kills you skin and gut in your life?” Flashing his eyes to Andrew for a moment, he focused back on the body. The prop. Nothing more. Just a disgusting prop. He finally grabbed onto the handle of the large blade, sliding it out, taking a moment to appreciate the light shining off of it.

“...Anyway, mine is sharper.”

He was done hesitating, Andrew realized, when just a couple of seconds after his last words, the knife was plunged down into the walker’s stomach. The sound it made was enough to turn the most ironclad stomach, and Andrew’s was definitely not ironclad. ‘Daryl’ was methodical with his movements. Never making a cut he didn’t need, and, at least outwardly, showing no signs that he was bothered by what he was doing.

“Another slice,” the director called out just as Norman completed the second cut. His face was blank except for the physical strain of pulling the knife through muscles and fat and whatever disgusting things that laid in his path.

Sucking in a deep breath, he raised the knife and plunged it down again, and repeated the motion.

“Another. He's a thick one, really gotta put your back in it.”

Biting back a complaint, Norman just stared the blade and the black sludge that rose up from the cut, then pulled it free. Plunging it down again was the easy part, but as he yanked, his biceps twitched with the force. They had done too good of a job in the lifelike layers.

“Gimme  _ one  _ more.”

This time, Norman let out a soft groan, still dragging the blade through the midsection. He adjusted his grip and gritted his teeth together, and completed the fourth cut. The fifth was slower. Hesitant. He was beginning to lightly pant, but even as his arms ached and his hands trembled, he raised the blade and tore with all he had.

“There you go! Cut! Take a breath, boys.”

Standing up as quickly as he could, Andrew peeled off his gloves, and hooked a hand around Norman’s arm. Dragging him away from the now partially gutted walker, he pulled and pushed until they were behind the same tree from a few minutes earlier. 

Resting a hand on Norman’s cheek, Andrew looked into his eyes, and said, “Talk to me, Norman. Please.”

The knife had been left behind in the body, and by the time they reached the tree, Norman's body was shaking. He forced his hands to yank away his own gloves, managing to have enough thought that he should not leave black marks on Andrew's shirt.

The Omega almost collapsed against Andrew, still panting and eyes wide. One arm was now hooked tight around his own stomach, nails digging into his side. “S-she's not there, it's not her, she's out there, she's gotta be out there, she's not in there,” Norman panted, his voice shaking.

“That’s right, she’s not in there,” Andrew said, his voice low pitched and as soothing as he could make it. His fingers speared through the hair on either side of Norman’s skull, and pressed their foreheads together. “You did so well, Norman. I’m so proud of you. Did such a good job.”

His voice hushed as Andrew started speaking, turning into soft whines and whimpers as his wide eyes focused on nothing else but Andrew's. His other hand reached and grasped onto Andrew's stained shirt, desperately pulling on him. “I-I did good,” he stammered to himself.

“So good,” Andrew repeated. The fingers of one hand started stroking softly over Norman’s hair, while the other curled around the nape of his neck. “You’re going to be more popular than me if you keep this up.”

A hushed purr worked free from the Omega, his eyes shining with unshed tears that had too many meanings to properly comprehend. He managed to pull his arm off of his stomach and instead wrap it around Andrew's shoulders, trying to eliminate any space between their bodies.

Wrapping his own arms around his shaking Omega, Andrew buried his face in Norman’s neck. Pressing him back against the tree, he ignored the bark digging into his forearms. Growling softly, unable to keep his instincts at bay, Andrew opened his mouth, and started biting roughly at the side of Norman’s neck.

A loud groan came from Norman without restraint, his fingers twisting harder onto his shirt and pressed the hand from around his shoulder against the side of Andrew’s neck, feeling his pulse skyrocketing. Norman tipped his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as he exposed more of his neck. He couldn't help but roll his hips up, pressing against Andrew's own.

Andrew sucked in a breath at the feeling of Norman’s obvious erection pressing up against his own. Between pants and bites, he growled out, “If they don’t call for us in thirty seconds, I’m going to take you into the woods, and fuck you blind. Screw the rest of the scene.”

By the end of his sentence, Norman started squirming against him, and then came the scent of slick. “P-please, please, Andy, please…!” Norman begged, his hand tightening and scratching against his neck, leaving raised red lines. His hips bucked up again, grinding against him.

“Fuck it,” Andrew growled. Grabbing Norman’s hand, he turned around and began working his way deeper into the woods. Swiping branches out of his way, he kept going until he came to a small clearing, not much bigger than one of the small hotel rooms he’d stayed in while filming the first season, before renting his house.

Shoving Norman up against a convenient tree, he knelt, and wasted no time in dragging his Omega’s pants down around his ankles.

Standing up again, his hands going to his belt, he unbuckled it quickly. Deep red eyes focused on Norman. “This isn’t going to be gentle, Norm,” he said, ripping his belt out of the loops and throwing it into the brush surrounding them. “You need to say something now if you’re not okay with that.”

Norman reached back and hooked his hands onto the bark, his eyes already flooding gold. His legs trembled beneath him, but he couldn't care less. “Don't want it gentle. Want you to fuck me hard,” Norman rasped, his eyes locking onto Andrew's pants. “Wanna be good for you.”

As slowly as he could, which is to say, not slowly at all, Andrew peeled his jeans down his legs. Stroking himself lightly, his eyes nearly glowing, he snarled, flashing his teeth at Norman. “Turn around and brace your hands against the tree.”

His mind racing too fast to catch any of the thoughts, like the fact that they shouldn't possibly ruin their clothing or they would need to reshoot, Norman didn't bother responding verbally.

He almost tripped with his pants around his ankles, but he managed to turn around. Even when he wanted to stare into those red eyes, he knew better than to disobey. He wanted his Alpha to be proud of him. Wanted Andrew to use him as he wished.

He pressed his hands against the bark, finding a good grip within the wood. Norman could already feel his slick against his thighs, the ache inside himself throbbing. All he could do was hope that it wouldn't be too much, and he could take everything Andrew gave him.

His own jeans hovering somewhere around his upper things, Andrew stalked the few steps over to Norman and fell to his knees on the leaf strewn ground. He growled loudly, and reached up to grasp at Norman’s ass, fingers squeezing.  He couldn’t help himself, and he leaned forward, biting hard enough to leave a crescent shaped mark on Norman’s left cheek. 

Andrew took in a deep breath, and his eyes nearly rolled up into his skull. “Smell good enough to eat, Norman. I could spend hours here.” Squeezing harder, he groaned at the glimpse of the small, glistening wet hole waiting to be filled by his cock. “But I don’t think I have the patience for that right now.”

The Omega let out a loud moan when the teeth connected to his flesh, the bark crackling beneath his tightening grasp. Parts snapped off into his hand, leaving him scrambling for more. “Can't wait, please, need your knot, Alpha,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against the wood.

Getting to his feet, Andrew plastered himself to Norman’s back, his hips rutting up against his bare ass. He let out a long groan when Norman spread his legs wider, letting his aching cock slip between them, the tip brushing against the back of his balls. “It’s a good thing no one actually hunts in this forest. Do you know why?” Andrew asked, grabbing his cock and rubbing the head against Norman’s clenching hole.

Norman's voice got caught in his throat as he felt the head rub against him, already gathering slick onto the tip. He bit down hard onto his bottom lip, and it began to bleed just slightly. He shook his head, still struggling for his voice. “N-n… N-No, Alpha,” he whined.

Bringing his face down, Andrew licked at Norman’s earlobe, and said, “Because we’re about to scare away all the game in a 10 mile radius.” As he said the final words, Andrew lined up his hips, and sank the first few inches of his cock inside Norman. His jaw clenched, and he threw back his head, a strained sort of howl escaping his mouth as he did.

Another voice raised as well, a screech. Norman's legs buckled beneath him, and he would have collapsed had it not been for his desperate clinging to the tree. “Burns, burns, hurts,” he cried out, his unprepared hole practically on fire at the sudden stretch. It was so tight, even with the slick, but he didn't tell Andrew to stop. He sucked his breath in through his teeth, trying to focus on anything but the unbearable burning.

Andrew’s hand came up and curled around Norman’s throat. “Breathe deeply,” he growled, unable to soften his voice at all. “Relax your muscles.” His hand tightened the smallest bit around Norman’s throat. Not enough to cut off his air supply, but enough for him to feel a slight pressure.

Sliding himself inside another inch, Andrew’s teeth snapped closed on empty air. “Fuck!” he yelled, sending birds he hadn’t even known were there into startled flight. He lay his forehead on Norman’s sweaty back, and panted, his hips twitching with the need to bury himself completely into the wet, tight heaven of his Omega’s body. 

Andrew's hand could feel every sound that came from Norman, the whines and bewildered panting. The next inch was just as painful, letting out a cry of pain. But he refused to say no. Needed his Alpha. Needed to feel him. Needed to be  _ destroyed. _

Norman forced his concentration on his breathing, how it rasped against Andrew's grasp. His sides heaved with his first breath, then let it out in a shudder. He shifted in extreme discomfort, and focused on picturing that thick cock inside him. Wanted to make room for him. Take him deeper.

Sliding himself out with a long groan, Andrew’s fingers tightened on Norman’s throat and hip as his muscles bunched, and he surged forward again, finally succeeding in burying his entire length in Norman’s quivering body.

He mouthed along Norman’s neck, his eyes closed, searching for the spot that only he was allowed to touch. Removing his hand from Norman’s hip, he clenched his fingers in the Omega’s hair, tilting his head to the side. Andrew inhaled deeply, and grinned. He licked over the overlapping scars Norman carried there, and exhaled, “Mine,” before opening his mouth wide, and clamping his teeth down over the spot.

The bark snapped beneath his hands, just as Norman let out a howl when those teeth snapped down onto his mating mark. In an instant, it wiped his thoughts clean. All he could think about was the teeth burying into his neck, releasing pheromones and hormones throughout his body.

Without thought, he pushed his hips back against Andrew's, even when his muscles were clamped tight around him. He was still shaking, and tears started running down his cheeks, but he said nothing against it. “P-please… I need- I can't- need more!”

Growling around the flesh still in his mouth, Andrew clamped his teeth down ever harder, and started to rock his hips into Norman. After several thrusts, he let go of his shoulder, and pressed his lips to it, slipping his tongue out and licking over the sluggishly bleeding wound. 

His hips were making lewd slapping sounds as he ruthlessly fucked into Norman. Teeth bared in a ferocious snarl, he gripped Norman’s hips with bruising hands, relishing in the fact that there would be marks all over his Omega.  _ His _ marks.

“You’re mine,” he panted, sinking in to the hilt and holding himself there. His fingers flexed on Norman’s hips, adding several more bruises to the collection. “You will belong to me  _ always. _ Everyone is going to be able to see my mark on you.”

Slick trailed down Norman's thighs, making every thrust that little bit easier as his body finally started to work loose. Yet it was still tight, wet, hot, everything Norman hoped Andrew wanted.

“Y-yours, all yours, always yours,” Norman panted, his hands scratching to find a proper hold. His legs were shaking, and seemed that at any moment they could give out again. But he was holding on, wanting nothing more than for his Alpha to fill him with seed and his knot.

Norman cried out at a particular thrust, throwing his head back. “Wanna be yours!’

Andrew’s hips picked up speed with Norman’s words. Throwing his head back he howled, and felt his knot begin to swell. It popped in and out of Norman’s clenching channel several times before it caught. Andrew pressed his hips as close as he could, and reached around Norman’s body, wrapping a hand around his Omega’s dripping cock.

“Feel that?” he asked, dragging his hips back a little, and letting his knot tug at the rim of Norman’s hole. “I’m going to fill you up. Fill you so full you won’t be able to walk without come dripping down the inside of your legs.” He squeezed his fingers around Norman’s cock. “Is that what you want, Norman? To be so full of me, you can taste it on your tongue?”

A choked sob came from Norman, pressing his forehead against the bark as he tried desperately to thrust himself into Andrew's hand, but the knot would tug hard against his rim. “Never wanna be empty, always full,” Norman moaned, pleading in his voice.

“Wanna leak, have you in me forever, don't ever leave, just in me, in me!” his voice became louder as his orgasm started to rush upon him, even as he tried to fight it down just to make this last any longer.

“Come is going to be leaking out of you for hours,” Andrew growled, his mouth directly by Norman’s ear. “And if too much leaks out, I’ll put more in. Maybe stick a plug in your filthy, greedy hole to make sure it stays there. Would you like that?” 

Andrew licked a stripe across the still bleeding bite. “Go to work, and film with a plug inside you. Feeling it rock against your insides all day while we kill walkers. Have the cast and all the crew look at you and know something is different, but not being able to tell what it is. No one knowing how needy you are. How much you love it when I fill you up with my come.”

Norman tried, he really did, but halfway through those filthy words Andrew whispered into his ear, he let out a low howl, his head thrown back as he started to come, even with Andrew's grasp so tight on his cock. He shuddered against his body, his hips jolting up against the hand on his cock as he came across the bark of the tree.

Feeling Norman’s body tighten even more around his cock was too much for Andrew. Groaning lowly, he latched his teeth onto Norman’s shoulder again, and let himself go. His vision whited out for several seconds, and his fingers clamped down on Norman’s hips, adding to the collection of bruises already there. He ground himself against Norman’s body, drawing out the pleasure it had given him until he couldn’t stand it any longer.

Panting wildly, something that was quite difficult with a large bit of Norman’s shoulder in his mouth, his hips stilled. Slowly withdrawing his teeth, Andrew let his head rest between Norman’s shoulder blades. His breath washed out over the damp cloth, and caused a shiver to run down Norman’s spine. “Holy shit,” he murmured, rolling his head along the fabric. “That was intense.”

His clothing damp with sweat, and in the case of his shoulders also blood, Norman's chest heaved with pants that rasped hard. His voice was rough, trying to speak but all that came out was whimpers. His fingers were slightly bloody from grabbing onto the bark, cutting into his palms and nicking the skin. His knees gave out just slightly, but he caught himself, even as it forced a hiss of pain at the tug of the knot.

Wrapping one arm around Norman’s waist, Andrew maneuvered them until his own back was up against the tree, and he sank down onto the grass beneath him. His fingers started to pet across Norman’s body. His forearms, his waist, his shoulders. Carefully avoiding the bite mark, that from Andrew’s perspective looked extremely painful.

A horrifying thought took root in his mind then. “Norman... Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I? Play too rough?”

The bite was jagged from numerous entries and tugs, almost savage like a wild animal sinking into its prey. Norman flinched at  the changing of positions, his teeth gritting together at the combination of his aching body being moved and the knot still tugging no matter how gentle Andrew attempted.

Yet he shook his head, his head dropping against Andrew's shoulder. Norman first had to take in a few shivering breaths to steady himself before he could speak. “Good rough,” he grunted, closing his eyes. “Gonna hurt, but good hurt.”

“If you’re sure,” Andrew said, wrapping his arms tight around Norman’s midsection. Tilting his head, he looked more closely at the bite. He winced in sympathy. “This one is going to take some time to heal. I got you good.”

Lowering his head, Andrew began licking over the mark, some long forgotten instinct telling him he needed to clean it. “I’ll put something on it when we get home.”

“S’gonna need a bandaid or two.” Norman huffed out a laugh as he leaned his head away, ensuring that Andrew had full reach of his neck. He shifted his hands to rest onto Andrew's knees, squeezing softly. “...And I'm gonna need some ice.”

Andrew winced. “I’m sorry,” he said, hiding his face in Norman’s neck. “I shouldn’t have been so rough.”

Norman lifted his hand and patted onto Andrew's thigh twice before returning to his knees. “Ain't complaining about  _ why  _ I need it. Just don't wanna be useless for the next week.” He turned his head slightly to give Andrew a tired smile, sweat still dripping down his face.

Lifting his head, all the color drained out of Andrew’s face. “Oh shit. Everyone is… The whole fucking crew…” His head dropped back down to the crook of Norman’s neck. “We’re going to get fired.”

Sharing the realization, Norman let out a soft groan and fidgeted onto Andrew's lap as if he was going to get up, only to let out a hiss when he also realized why he couldn't. “Shit.  _ Shit.  _ Uh, call ‘em, tell ‘em we got kidnapped, or a bear grabbed me and you had to fight it off,” he rambled, desperately searching his mind for some excuse that may work better than telling them that they just spent however long fucking each other against a tree.

“I might as well tell them we got eaten by walkers.” Glancing around them, Andrew sighed. “We’re not really that far away. I’m about 95% sure they heard  _ everything _ .”

“Ah, shit,” Norman cursed softly, closing his eyes as he dropped his head back again. “There's no fucking way I'm finishing up that scene. I physically can't. And we can't even fucking move for like…” Norman paused, his brow furrowing. “...Twentyish minutes?”

“Something like that.” Andrew furrowed his brow. “Maybe one of us can call someone. You always have your cell phone on you, right?”

“I ain't calling.” Norman opened his eyes and turned in an attempt to look back at him, narrowing his eyes. “I'm just the poor Omega who wanted to make my Alpha happy.  _ You're  _ the responsible one.” Norman's voice was teasing, even though there was an audible rasp, his voice already raw.

He carefully shifted his legs to pull his pants closer, trying and failing to not shift too much on Andrew's knot. It took a few attempts and some swears, but Norman finally grabbed the phone from his pants pocket. He leaned back against Andrew with a soft groan and held out the phone to him.

“So that’s what I have to look forward to, is it? A lifetime of, ‘My Alpha made me do it!’”

Andrew grumbled a bit more, but took the phone. “Lucky you’re so cute, or I swear…”

Norman couldn't stop his grin, or fluttering his eyelashes at Andrew in return. “You did pick me,” he chirped.

“I suppose I did.” Andrew swiped his tongue over the bite once more, before focusing on the phone in his hand. “Now. Who should I call.”

“Uh, go with....” Norman’s face furrowed up, the sign that he was thinking and concentrating. “...Go with Jon. I think he has a scene later. Should be around. Probably should actually call the director but, uh, don't want you fired just yet.”

Andrew nodded, and started flicking through Norman’s contacts. “I don’t see a listing for Jon. What do you have him under?” 

“Oh. He's Asshole Alpha 2.”

Rolling his eyes, Andrew asked, “Doesn’t that get confusing?” His fingers paused over the screen of the phone for a moment before scrolling rapidly through the list, and looking at Norman intently. “My name isn’t in here either. What am  _ I  _ listed under?”

Norman grinned a sheepish grin, practically oozing his guilt. “Um… It changes. I think right now you're “Cockasaurus.” But it used to be Asshole Alpha 1. Depends on my mood.”

Andrew’s chest puffed up a little bit. “Cockasaurus, huh? I can get behind that. Sort of… Majestic. In a pornographic way.”

Flashing some teeth, Norman leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Gonna make a documentary on how your cock caused the extinction of the dinosaurs.”

Finally pressing the call button, Andrew put the phone to his ear. “After I get through this phone call, I’ll start looking for a director.”

Two rings later, Andrew flinched and pulled the phone away from his ear. Jon’s voice could be heard clearly, even without putting it on speaker. 

_ “Norm, where the  _ fuck  _ did you go?! Are you and Andy fucking again?” _

“Jesus, Jon, I think you ruptured my eardrum!” Andrew put a hand to his ear, then pulled it back to look at his fingers. “I’ve got to be bleeding. Am I bleeding?”

_ “ _ Andrew?  _ You're gonna be bleeding awful fast if you two don't get your asses back on set!” _

Norman winced, biting onto his bottom lip as he cringed on Andrew's lap. He made sure to keep quiet, as talking probably would only further prove Jon’s initial theory.

“I think it’s going to be another few minutes before we, I mean I, before  _ I _ get back there.” Andrew said. Flexing his hips experimentally, and finding himself still stuck fast, he sighed. “Another 10 minutes or so. I had uh… I went to… Um… Shit. I had an important phone call to make.”

Even the small flexing of his hips made Norman jolt on his lap, his hand squeezing Andrew's knee again. There was silence on the other side of the phone call, then a sigh.

“ _...You're balls deep in Norm right now, aren't you.” _

“No!” Andrew cast around for some kind of reason that Jon would believe. “I went to uh… I’m at crafty. I was hungry. I’ve no idea where Norman is.” He shifted his hips again, trying to dislodge a rock from under his left ass cheek.

This time the Omega shuddered, biting his lip harder. Gold-rimmed eyes glared at Andrew, as if he could burn a hole straight through his head.

“ _ Uh huh. You're using his phone right now, dumbass.” _

Pulling the phone away from his face, Andrew swore. “I’m no fucking good at this,” he hissed at Norman in a loud whisper. Putting the phone back up to his ear, he said, “I, uh, yeah. He, uh. Left it with me in case he… Wanted me to bring him back some food. So he could call me. For food.”

_ “...Norman left his phone with you so he could call you with the phone he doesn't have for food. Forget about how fucking  _ stupid  _ that is, the director is going to gut you both if you don't get back on set!” _

“W-I’ll be back soon,” Andrew sighed. “It’s not too far of a walk. Be back as soon as I can.” He winced. “I mean, I’ll drive back. From getting food. For Norman. Shit.”

For every blunder Andrew made in the call, Norman grew more stiff and agitated. His eyes narrowed and there was a scowl across his face. Every second they spent out here in the woods with a knot locked into his ass was another second he could be spending shoving his face full of said food or just knocking himself the fuck out.

Losing whatever patience he had left, he reached and snatched the phone away from Andrew's hand and held it to his face. “For fucks sake, Jon, tell the fucker we ain't gonna be there, and like hell am I gonna be doing  _ shit  _ when I am!”

_ “Well, hello, Norman! Good to hear you. Now tell me just  _ why  _ you aren't-" _

“Because I got a fucking knot in my ass the size of a soccer ball after Andrew fucked my brains out!”

Andrew thumped his head down on Norman’s shoulder. He groaned, not quite ready to give up on his, frankly horrible, cover story. Still.  “But I’m at craft services,” he whined.

_ “...How fucking talented are you, Andy?”  _ There were traces of humor in Jon's voice, as he sounded like he was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing.

“Don't fucking humor him!” Norman scowled at the phone. “I'm outta here for the damn day. As soon as I can fucking move.” Norman shifted, testing the strength of the bond between them, only to let out a sharp hiss.

_ “Ouch,” _ Jon said, actual sympathy in his voice.

“Quit fucking doing that, Norman, it hurts! You’re going to end up ripping something off that I’d rather stayed attached!” Andrew grabbed hold of Norman’s hips, and held him still. “It’s starting to go down, just hold still, or you’ll make it worse.”

Norman just growled softly in response, probably as Andrew’s fingers brushed across the sharpening bruises on his hips.

_ “Uh, so, um…”  _ Jon paused, unsure exactly what to do with this awkward situation.  _ “Norm, mind handing me back to Andrew?” _

The Omega glared down at the phone, then cursed under his breath. Wordlessly he pulled the phone away and held it up for Andrew to take.

With a put upon sigh, Andrew grabbed the phone. “Yes, Jon?"

_ “Uh, I ain't there so I can't tell myself, but is he even gonna be able to  _ walk? _ Norm doesn't seem like the gentle loving type.” _

“Yeah, he’s probably going to be limping for a day or two, if you want an honest answer.” Andrew swept a hand up Norman’s torso, and lay it on his neck, fingers directly over his pulse point. “We, or should I say  _ I _ got a little carried away. Not his fault.”

A colorful stream of curses were grumbled under Norman's breath, only to hush once Andrew's hand pressed against his neck. After a few moments, a soft purr rumbled just beneath his touch.

_ “Mkay, maybe I can get him a nurse slip or something. I can try to cover you guys up. Bear attack?” _

Andrew snorted. “That was Norman’s first idea, too. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. Why not just tell them we were eaten by walkers? They both have about the same chance of happening.”

“You're such a dick,” Norman muttered.

_ “Fine, fine, I'll tell him the scene got… Who do you want the blame on, you or Norm? Whoever got overwhelmed by the scene and needs to go home. And the other person is the dutiful mate and went with, see if he buys it.” _

“Me,” Andrew said, without hesitation. “Tell them it was me.”

_ “Aw, cute. Norm took you home like the little not horny fucker he is.” _ Another rumble from Norman, but he stayed mostly silent.  _ “How’s that sound?” _

“We owe you. Big time.” His fingers fluttering and stroking over Norman’s slightly rapid pulse, Andrew said, “I’ll buy you a case of that beer you liked. The craft stuff my mother sent me for Christmas last year.”

Jon let out a long whistle.  _ “Shit,  _ I’d  _ take the fall for that. I'll sweeten him up for you. Just let him know when you'll be back. At all. For the entire week. Because I known how you two get.” _

“If you can get us until Wednesday, I’ll buy you two cases.”

_ “Done. Now get that poor boy an ice pack.” _ The phone clicked and the call ended without another word.


End file.
